


Star Crossed

by TehLadyCav



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baby Fluff, Divorce, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10129187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehLadyCav/pseuds/TehLadyCav
Summary: Life after divorce isn't all it's cracked up to be...





	1. Chapter 1

I wriggled and moaned as one of his large hands cupped a swollen breast, while the other fiddled with my clit. While bouncing on his dick at nine months pregnant wasn’t exactly comfortable, damn did it feel fucking amazing.

Nine months, three days and seven hours pregnant. I wanted this fucking baby out and I was willing to fucking do anything. Including sex with my soon to be ex-husband, Negan.

It was a little after midnight when I phoned him.

He picked up with a yawn. “Yeah?”

“It’s me.”

He instantly sounded more awake. “Are you in fucking labor?”

“No, I just…can I come over?”

Sighing he said, “Of course, you can fucking come over. You don’t fucking have to ask.”

Thus, I ended up in his rented apartment at nearly one in the morning. All I had to do was give him my innocently sad look and both our pants were off.

Which is how I ended up riding my ex-husband.

“Doll,” he groaned as I squeezed myself around him. I’m sure he was making all manner of faces, but I kept my eyes closed. I wanted the sex, but I surely didn’t want the fucking intimacy with him. Because that fucker would suck me right the fuck back in with him. Screw that bullshit.

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to tell him for the thousandth time to not call me doll anymore. I’d come to hate it. Thank fuck we were having a boy.

I cried out as his thumb slipped, twitching as the jolts of surprise zinged through my body. It was enough to push me over the edge and I leaned forward, as far as the belly would let me, spasming around his dick.

He grasped my hips and began to lift and lower me, a hardier process than it had been before I’d gotten pregnant. Before I’d known about his other woman. Even post-orgasm the thought of him betraying me like that hurt. Underneath me, he groaned every time I came down.

Fuck, I wished he would just fucking come already. I knew exactly what he was fucking doing, and he knew that I knew it too. Negan was fucking savoring it, probably under some fucking delusional that we were back together.

Wrong.

All I wanted was that jizz to fucking jumpstart my labor. I’d tried stairs, walks and nipple stimulation. Fuck, I’d eaten enough pineapple to not only make my mouth fucking burn, but to know that I never fucking wanted to see another pineapple again.

I pushed his hands off my hips and bent forward, elbows on his chest. He splayed his hands on my back and I shuddered.

“What’re you doing?”

“Fucking you,” I said as I put my forehead on the pillow next to him. If I was uncomfortable before, now I felt like a fucking contortionist.

“Mmm.”

I went to town, jack hammering my hips in that awkward as position. But somehow it fucking worked and Negan cried out, louder and louder until he slammed his hips upwards.

His dick jerked and convulsed as he spilled himself inside and then he slithered out, a feeling that would normally make me laugh. Instead, I just felt dirty.

Maybe sex with him wasn’t such a good idea. He was looking at me with that soft gaze he used to give me after our hazy lovemaking sessions. This wasn’t lovemaking though. This was a booty call.

I rolled off him and stalked over to the bathroom to clean up the mixture of liquids running down my thigh. I froze and stared town at the trickle. Okay, that was a lot fucking more than just us.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re fucking bleeding,” Negan exclaimed from the other room.

I looked up from the leakage. “Huh?”

“My dick is fucking covered in blood.”

Negan walked into the bathroom with a horrified look on his face. His dick glistened with us and with dark red blood. He stared at my legs. “Are you fucking peeing yourself?”

I took in a deep breath, gathering all my patience. “No, I’m pretty sure my water is breaking.”

It took everything I had not to smirk at the panicked look on his face. He put his hands up to his head. “Fuck, doll. I don’t have anything with you. No hospital bag, no fucking baby crap.”

His panic started to seep into my bones. His swiveling eyes were making me fucking dizzy, so I sat on the toilet seat. “I didn’t expect it to work that fucking fast.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

I tilted my head back. “I have the baby bag and the car seat in my car. I’m motherfucking ready.”

For the briefest of moments Negan stopped his panic and he smiled at me. “You’ve been ready since week fucking twelve.”

“Damn skippy. Fuck this bullshit that morning sickness goes away at twelve weeks,” I groused as I snatched a wad of toilet paper from the roll and used it to dry my leg. There was still a trickle of liquid seeping into the toilet.

“Fuck,” he said, watching me clean up, fear etching the lines of his face. “I don’t think I’m fucking ready for this.”

I was and I wasn’t. I wanted the baby to fucking get the fuck out. But I also feared what would happen when he was out. And the conversation Negan and I needed to have. I still hadn’t told him I was moving to King County in Georgia. I could only imagine the explosion to follow.

Annoyed, I glanced up at him. Fucker was still watching me. It was getting fucking creepy. “Can you go get my pants?”

He nodded but he didn’t fucking move. “Are you having contractions?”

I snorted. “For like the past fucking week.”

“And you didn’t fucking tell me?”

I rubbed my hands over my face. “I’ve had cramps worse than this. Dude, my pants?”

He squinted at me before trotting off to find my pants, and hopefully my shirt. I took the moment to ground myself and envision my heart slowing down to its normal beat. I was just as scared as Negan was. Fuck, maybe even more. I was going to be doing this alone. Part of me didn’t want to.

The little voice in my head told me I didn’t have to. I wanted Negan to be there. But if I stayed in Virginia I would end up back with him and he would have me and whatever side chick he wanted. I couldn’t be in another relationship like that. The first one caused far too much stress on me. Plus, I didn’t want our son growing up to think it was okay to treat women like that.

“Nayna?”

I opened my eyes and looked at him holding my clothes. “Yes?”

“You okay?”

I hauled myself up and waddled over to him. “Just fine. Let’s get to the hospital.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Hi baby,” Negan whispered, staring down into our sons tiny, scrunched up face. “You want to come see your Mama?”

I sat up, wincing at the pain in my nether regions. Fucking hell, no one ever told you about the after pain. The tearing. The stitches. The fucking adult diapers and mesh panties. They didn’t tell you that you would be exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. Woozy with happiness. Oozing love. The entire birth business was gross, from the bloody show to the fucking overabundance of emotions.

Twenty-five hours of labor. And I still wasn’t fucking tired in the least. I wanted to get up and do things, but the pain prevented me. If I didn’t have such a fear of narcotics, I would have begged for real pain killers instead of Motrin.

Negan gingerly placed the baby in my arms and settled on the hospital bed next to me. One hand cupped our sons head and the other lay on the curve of my lower back. I settled the baby on to the stupid nursing pillow and studied his face.

Negan, apparently was doing the same. “He looks like you, doll.”

His voice was filled with affection and pride. I squashed down the guilt, not wanting to ruin this serene moment.

“Mmm.” I traced a knuckle down a swollen cheek. I couldn’t see either of us in him yet, all I saw was his own perfect little self with the balled-up fists curled against those chubby cheeks and the thick tuft of hair on the crown of his head.

“He’s gonna be a fucking lady-killer when he grows up.”

I snorted. “I hope not.”

“Oooh, you want a fucking mama’s boy.”

“Eat shit,” I said with a smile.

The baby began to root around and I fiddled with the top of the hospital gown. With deft hands, Negan unbuttoned it for me and pushed it down. I flushed, even though he’d seen me naked thousands of times. Somehow nursing our baby seemed far more intimate than our past intimacy.

Negan perched his chin on my shoulder.

I glanced over at him. “Are you going to watch?”

“Why the fuck not? I’ve seen those titties more times than I can count. Fuck I’ve had them in my mouth. You’re not fucking going into uncharted territory there, son.”

I rolled my eyes. “I already feel self-conscious enough as it is.”

“I’m here to fucking help you. Plus, I’d never turn down a chance to see those fucking amazing melons.”

I busted out laughing. “Melons? Really?”

“Beach balls? Boobies? Knockers? Fucking sweater puppies?”

I snorted and tried to cover it with a sigh, but his grin told me he knew he’d gotten me. Meanwhile, the baby was becoming more and more agitated, letting out high pitched whimpers.

“Shhh, baby. Mama’s gonna give you your Milk-Duds—Ow!”

I’d elbowed him in the side as I brought the baby up to my breast, grimacing as he attempted to latch on. After several minutes of unlatching and relatching—and a very red and swollen nipple—he finally got to the business of suckling.

Negan shifted so he was behind me and I let myself lay back against his broad chest. He felt so familiar, so comfortable. It’d be easy to fall back into our marriage. God knew how much I fucking loved that asshole.

Glancing over my shoulder I could see the soft smile on Negan’s face as he watched the baby curl his fists tight against my breast. 

Before I registered what was happening, a glistening tear dropped onto his head. And then another. And another.

“Hey,” Negan said reaching around and wiping the wetness from my face. “What’s wrong?”

I sniffled. “I don’t know.”

He smiled endearingly at me and stroked my face. “Doll…”

“He’s so perfect.” I sobbed.

Negan couldn’t hide his laughter, the bastard. I shooed him away, but like an annoying fly he kept coming back.

“Bit of a hormonal let down there?” He grinned and nipped at my bare shoulder.

“Fuck you.” I sniffed and wiped my eyes with the back of my free hand.

He chuckled and stroked the baby’s hair. “We have to name him sometime, Nayna.”

“I hate Anderson.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t look like a fucking Anderson. Johnathan?”

I made a face. “No.”

“Andrew?”

“No.”

And so, it went on for the next few hours, pausing only when we had to change diapers or feed the baby or if I needed assistance in the bathroom. Finally, I fell asleep either in self-defense or utter exhaustion from being awake for the past thirty-four hours in a row.

 

Negan nudged me awake a few hours later, handing me the baby, who was ready to nurse again. With Negan's help, we got him latched on and I sat back, eyes never leaving the perfect little baby.

I never knew how much I could love someone, until I held our child in my arms. I had to bite my tongue to resist the urge to tell Negan how much I loved him. 

Would I ever get over him?

"So," Negan cleared his throat and sat down on the bed again. He rested a hand on my knee.

I sighed, knowing what was coming. "So?"

He did not disappoint me. "Can I fucking come home, doll?"

Fuck. I bit my lip. God, I wanted him to come home so bad. I wanted to lie in his arms, listen to our son. To be a real family. The family I never had growing up. But if I let Negan back in....he'd just break my heart over and over. And what kind of message would that send to our son?

I couldn't meet his eyes, instead choosing to refocus on the baby's tiny little hand. I reached out and stroked his chubby fist. "I needed to talk to you about that..."

His fingers tightened around my knee. "What?"

I drew in a deep, rattling breath. "You can move back into the house.... I’m...I was offered a job. A really good job, in King County."

His eyes darkened. "Where exactly is that?"

"Georgia."

He stared at me for a couple of beats. "You want to take my child away from me?"

I shook my head and shifted the baby higher. "It's not that I want to take him away from you...I want a fresh start. You're more than welcome to come see him as much as you want...I just...being around you sucks."

"A fucking fresh start?" His voice grew louder.

The baby whimpered and I shh'ed him, bouncing him in the crook of my arm. 

In contrast my voice became softer. "You broke my heart."

"You broke my fucking heart when you left! You just fucking walked away and I didn't see you for six goddamn months."

"I called and texted you every day," I said, my anger rising to match his. "Not to mention you were fucking that girl."

"So, fucking what? I've always had a mistress. It never fucking bothered Lucille any."

I squinted up at him, marveling at how much of an asshole he was. 

"Firstly, I'm not Lucille. I won't have it. I lived it before. I'm done with sharing. I will never do that again and sometimes I want to fucking kick myself for letting you back into my fucking life. You've done nothing but cause me pain since the day you walked into my life. The best thing you could do right now is just fucking leave because I can't let you do this to me again. I don't want you, I don't fucking need you."

He stood up and backed away, as if I'd slapped him. "You fucking bitch."

"I'm sorry. I didn't--"

"--shut the fuck up, you stupid whore. You were nothing but a fucktoy. I only fucking married you because Lucille told me I should. You've been nothing but a damned burden on me since the day I fucking met you."

He strode over to the door and turned back to me, his eyes glinting with anger and pain. "You want to take my child away? Fine. I'm getting a fucking lawyer and we'll see who fucking wins, dumb cunt."

He slammed the door behind him and the baby started to wail. I put him to my chest and bit my lips hard enough to draw blood.

I pressed my bleeding lips to his head. "We don't need him, little baby. You and me, we’re gonna be just fine."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, don't forget to kudos, comment, subscribe and bookmark. Also, you can follow me on tumblr: https://lovingzombiechaos.tumblr.com

I climbed into the backseat of Lexie’s car and settled myself beside the baby. I skimmed my fingers over his impossibly thick lashes. I’d always thought babies didn’t have eyelashes or hair or eyebrows. James Matthew was born with all three.

Lexie jumped into the driver’s seat and put the car in gear. “So, I assume you told him?”

“Why do you assume that?” I asked, leaning over the side of the car seat to admire my sons chubby face. I couldn’t get enough of him. It was gross.

“Because I’m the one picking you up, stupid.” From the tone in her voice, I could tell she was rolling her eyes at me.

“Excuse me, stupid.” I smiled as Jamie yawned and turned his face the other way.

Silence filled the car as Lexie concentrated on the road. I traced a finger over one of the baby’s hands, trying to ignore the conversation that I knew was going to take place, just as it had every damned day since I told her.

She stopped at a red light and stared at me through the rearview mirror. “Do you really have to move?”

I sighed and looked away. “Please don’t start.”

“I think you’re being unreasonable.”

The light turned green and we were off again.

“Well aren’t you special?”

“For fucks sake, Meghan.”

I glanced out the window, watching trees zoom by. “He told me I was nothing but a fucktoy.”

“Was this before or after you told him?”

I squinted at her and jerked my head to the side.

She held her hands up. “Sorry, dumb fucking question. Look, that whore loves you. He’s just a dick who can’t…keep it in his pants. He’s like a walking, talking dong.”

“Thanks for being on my side.” I rolled my eyes and plucked at my jacket.

“I’m not on your side when you’re fucking wrong and you know it. I’ma fucking tell you when you fuck up and guess what? You’re being an asshole. A stubborn asshole.”

Great, no one was on my side. Well, maybe Rick was. But I hadn’t exactly talked to him since before the birth.

I drummed my fingers on the sides of the car seat. “So, I should go back to him is what you’re saying.”

“Fuck no. You shouldn’t take his son out of the state is what I’m fucking saying. You wanna know whose side I’m on? I’m on Jamie’s. Fuck his selfish asshole parents.”

I bit my lip to keep from pointing out her selfishness in staying with a liar. Her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror and she frowned, knowing exactly what I wanted to say. We looked away at the same time. Somethings were just better left unsaid.

“I just don’t want to end up in a situation with him again….”

She pulled into the driveway. “Then keep it in your pants, Sassanova.”

I groaned. “Cassanova, you mean.”

“Nope. Sassy and skanky. That’s you.”

I busted out laughing. “Thanks, asshat.”

“Well, we’re here. Do you need anything?”

“Yeah, I’d like to fucking wake up from this nightmare now.”

“Nope, this is real life, sista from another mista. Come on, get your lazy fat ass out.”

She walked over to my side of the car and pulled me out first, and then unhooked Jamie’s car seat.

“Look at this little precious. You make Auntie Lexie want to have another one of you, yes you do.” She wagged her finger at him. He gave her a very Neganesque look and went back to sleep in self-defense. I tried to hide a snort behind my hand. She glared at me.

“Well, fuck you too, little shit,” Lexie said and handed him over to me.

She stopped halfway to the door and turned back to me. “Meghan?”

I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “What?”

“Oh god, what now?”

“I’m going to miss you, dickface.”

“Don’t fucking hug me.”

“Hugs are awkward,” I said with a sob.

Jamie began to wail in solidarity and Lexie stood, frozen like a deer in headlights. She shook her head and gestured to the door with both hands. “Can we cause a scene inside, please?”

I nodded and toddled into the house after her. She stepped into the entry hall and groaned.

“Damnit, nothing is packed. What the hell?”

I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of the jacket. “I thought Negan would help…”

“Jesus, you’re fucking delusional.”

“Whatever,” I said, pushing past her and setting the car seat on the floor. “Anyway, I’m not taking much. I’ve rented a fully furnished house down there with baby shit and everything. Rick sent me these pictures.” I stuffed my hand in my pocket, searching for my phone.

She raised a brow. “Who the hell is Rick?”

“I met him when I had the flat tire…he’s going to be my neighbor. He’s a widower with two kids…”

I trailed off, alarmed at the knowing look she shot my way.

“It’s not like that, I swear! He’s just a friend.”

“Uh-huh and then one day you’re going to call me ‘Oh Lexie, Rick and I had the most wonderful time at the hick play. We took all of the kids and they just fucking enjoyed it too. And then we fell in bed and made sweet, erotic, passionate love until the dusky morn.’ “

“I want to punch you in the face right now.”

She laughed and patted me on the back as she skipped into the kitchen, helping herself to my cookies on the way. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. No messages. As much as I tried, I couldn’t ignore the longing in my heart. I wished Negan had called me back or texted me. I didn’t realize how much I would miss him.

While I was pregnant we texted almost daily and he still made me laugh. He sent me apology flowers. He told me he loved me. He had shit for Jamie delivered to the house, even though he didn’t live with me anymore. He still doted on me, like he used to.

After I’d told him, he’d only visited me in the hospital once—to sign the birth certificate. He hadn’t exchanged a word with me, he’d signed and then scooped up Jamie and sat in the corner with him. Negan held the baby to his chest and rocked him back and forth.

The look on his face was enough to make me apologize and beg him to come home, but he refused to speak to me.

This wasn’t the first time I’d second guessed my decision. And I doubt it would be the last. I pressed the phone up to my lips and sighed. All I wanted to do was hear his stupid voice. I wanted him to fucking yell at me, call me a moron, so I could agree.

I pressed his name on the contacts list and put the phone up to my ear. It rang and rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. Of course, he didn’t pick up.

I bit my lips as I listened to his gruff voice. “How the---Oh fuck, this is Negan, just leave me a fucking message. I’ll fucking call when I can.”

I let out a choked sob, mingled with laughter. He was the most awkward fuck. Just like me.

BEEP. I cleared my throat. “Hi, it’s uh, me again. I just wanted to let you know Jamie and I got home alright. Everything checked out and stuff. Please um, call me okay? We should talk. I lo—Call me, please.”

I hung up, staring at the phone through blurry eyes.

“Yeah, you don’t fucking love him at all,” Lexie said. She leaned against the doorframe, shaking her honey brown hair.

I said nothing, opting to turn away from her to focus on Jamie instead. I mean, what else was there to say?


End file.
